


One Over Zero

by CallenAmakuni



Category: BioShock Infinite
Genre: BioShock Infinite: Burial at Sea, BioShock Spoilers, Canon Compliant, Elizabeth survives, Family Feels, Father-Daughter Relationship, Gen, Infinity, POV Elizabeth, Post-Canon
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-05-20
Updated: 2020-05-26
Packaged: 2021-03-02 23:54:33
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 4,909
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24295432
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/CallenAmakuni/pseuds/CallenAmakuni
Summary: Infinity is what it is. Is there any point to fight against it at all? Elizabeth learns that while there will always be something worth struggling for, not all wars can be waged.Post BaS epilogue.
Comments: 3
Kudos: 19





	1. Part I

It was dark all over.

Why was it still so painful? They always said one didn't feel anything when they died. Yet her head still ached, every pulse sending a wave of dolor down her neck. When would it end? When would everything end?

There was nothing else she'd wished for. Freedom. Deliverance. Mercy. A chance to see him again, maybe? Comstock had erased every single chance of her ever believing in the afterlife, but a tiny part of her still hoped for Booker to be there.

Sally was safe. The man in the lighthouse would come. He would free the little sisters from Rapture, from Atlas. There was nothing more for her. She could go in peace.

Her eyes were open, but she didn't see. The sounds around her dimmed out little by little, fading away into a gaping pit of nothingness. She could feel the bubbling water across the glass pressed against her back, but not much else.

She sensed herself starting to go. Finally. Her breaths were slow, hacked, short. The weight of Sally's little hands waned. The sound of _La Vie En Rose_ disappeared. The pressure of the corset under her shirt vanished. The pain went away.

Back on her tower, she'd read that for a peaceful parting, the last thoughts should be of home. Wherever that was.

Home? What was home to her? Not Rapture. Definitely not Columbia. Paris? She'd spent less than half a day in that city, all in her mind.

She flew back to the streets of the ramshackle pile of dirt and misery that was Shantytown. A guitar, a chair, some words, and her voice. That was her most cherished memory?

She could do worse than that.

Her lungs filled out for one last time in Rapture, in front of a little sister. A few fleeting instants later, Elizabeth Comstock died.

* * *

Her hands were still there. How could she see them? She stretched her fingers before her, then passed them through her hair in a quick movement. Every strand grinded against her skin. She could still feel them. Had nothing changed?

Everything around her was of a blinding white. She took a step forward. The click of her heel seemed to trigger something. The echo banged for a while, and a wooden door slowly formed before her. Simple and sturdy, with a single inscription on it.

_Booker DeWitt Investigations_

How confused she was was all she could think about. Why was she there? Had Comstock been right all along? She tried to circle around it but quickly realized the door rotated so that it always faced her.

She threw a quick look around her. There was nowhere else to go. After a resigned sigh, her hand came to meet the handle. She pushed it open carefully.

The room was almost empty, the only chair dusty. But this was indeed _his_ room. _His_ office. It looked abandoned. He was nowhere to be seen, however.

The sounds of a bustling street snapped her out of her torpor. Behind her was a city full of people striding through their lives. She closed the door and walked towards the room's center.

She was in New York. And that only meant one thing. There was still another Comstock to find.

Her head hung low. Would there never be an end to her struggle? Didn't she deserve to rest? Would he always haunt her? That man had taken everything from her. Her childhood, her freedom, her sanity, her father, her best friend. Her life, and now even her death.

She pressed a hand to her forehead and breathed shakily. She was tired, but it seemed her work was not finished.

She suddenly realized there was something on her neck. A new weight that hadn't been there a moment before. Her hand came to it, her fingers meeting the cold metal of a bumpy necklace. She took it off in a hurry and examined it. The cage? Where had it come from?

She turned it around a few times with wide eyes, recognizing every notch on the exterior golden belt, that scratch on the cage's third bar, the slight indent on the edge of its base. One thing was new, however. The small discolored circle under the cage hadn't been there last time she saw it.

She ran her thumb over it, and almost panicked when the trail of grey followed her finger's path. Another smaller discolored patch appeared on the right, then another, and another. They were drops of water. She lifted her hand to her cheek. Tears? When had she started crying?

She couldn't cry. Not now. Not after everything. She didn't cry when he let her drown him. She didn't cry when Comstock touched her again. She didn't cry when she understood she'd have to die to save Sally.

She wiped the tears away with rapid swipes of her left wrist. She allowed herself to smile at the necklace and held it to her heart for a few seconds.

She knew she'd have to get rid of it. But keeping it for a bit would do no harm.

"I miss you," she said to no one in particular. Or rather, to someone who couldn't hear her.

The door opened abruptly. Elizabeth jumped, her hand flying to the now-empty holster on the side of her thigh.

"We're picking it up and going home. And I told you, I'm not buying anything that breaks after—" The man stopped when he caught sight of her standing just before his desk.

_Him._

Elizabeth stumbled back and reached for something, anything. There was nothing on the desk she could throw at him. And even if there was, she couldn't let him know she knew who he was.

Comstock was holding a bag above his shoulder, still stuck at his office's entrance. He stared at her for a few moments before curving the corners of his mouth into a smile. "You're here."

Elizabeth was shocked into silence. He looked like he had been expecting her.

"Don't freak out," he said. She wasn't going to. She was going to rip his guts out. He gently let the bag down on the floor and lifted his hands. Her blank staring was slowly being replaced by vigorous shaking. Her fists boiled and itched to hit him. "And you're freaking out. Calm down. I know what you're thinking. I'm not him."

Elizabeth wasn't going to believe a word. He was a monster. He had lied to her for nearly twenty years. Imprisoned her. What was one more lie to him?

"You really hope to make me buy that? How cute."

Comstock smiled again. A gentle, soft smile that looked quite unnatural on him and unnerved her to no end. He stepped to the side.

A headful of dark hair held together by a blue ribbon appeared. The little silhouette emerged slowly from behind his leg. The girl was seven or eight, at most. Wide blue eyes, rosined cheeks, a shy glance. Her white and blue dress shimmered with each of her little steps.

Elizabeth could only stare in astonishment. Was she…?

"Who's this, daddy?" the girl asked.

"Anna, this is Elizabeth."

She was.

"Hello, Miss Elizabeth," Anna greeted with a quick wave before cowering behind Comstock. Or was it really Comstock? He had Booker's daughter with him? How could he?

"Yeah, I kept her this time around," he said. "After the baptism, I woke up here. She was still a baby. That Lutece guy came for her. He asked the same thing. 'Bring us the girl and wipe away the debt.' He wanted to buy her from me." He ruffled Anna's hair with a proud smile, the little girl giggling under his playful touch. "Something happened at that moment. I remembered things I had never seen. Steps I had never walked. A daughter I had never met. I remembered you. I refused his proposal and kindly told him to... fuck off." He seemed to realize Anna was still there and mouthed the last two words.

"What did you say?" the latter asked as she perched on her toes to see if she could get him to repeat himself.

Elizabeth let her knuckles untighten and fall to her sides. She stayed there, motionless.

"I'm not _your_ Booker. Not exactly," he continued. "But I met an Elizabeth. I helped her out of Columbia. We went through the lighthouse doors. I still don't fully get what happened down there, but she… got rid of me. The bad side of me."

Could it really…?

"I don't know how much time has passed for you since that. You look different. A bit taller. Definitely older. It's been south short of eight years for me."

Was it even possible…?

"...but I don't why, I feel like you've been through a lot more, haven't you? I…I know it's my fault. I know words will never excuse what I did."

The man in front of her…

"I just want you to know I'm sorry. I shouldn't have—"

Elizabeth walked closer and he looked like he held his breath. She stopped a few inches away from him and lifted his right hand for her to see.

"Ah, I see you picked the cage," he said, the slight tremor of his words betraying his nervousness. "You chose the bird when you were with me."

On the back were carved two letters. _A.D._ Those two she had been expecting. The part she was interested in was the slash that went between them. She flipped the hand over. The gash was still there. Scarred and healed, but noticeable nonetheless. She traced it with her finger.

"Got lucky with that. I kept the piece of cloth you used to wrap it. Well damn, that sounded a whole lot creepier than I inten—"

His words died out when Elizabeth launched herself and enveloped him into a crushing hug. She held onto him for dear life and buried her head into his neck, not bothering to repress her now abundant tears and sobs. Booker was surprised at first if she was to trust the gasp that he uttered. He eventually brought his arms around her and leaned into her embrace.

They stayed locked onto one another for a while. There was so much she had to tell him. So much she wanted him to know. How alone she'd felt without him. But for the time, Elizabeth simply relished the fact that she could touch him and talk to him again.

"I missed you," she finally said, completely unable to contain the trembling in her voice.

"Missed you too, kiddo."

She pulled away after a few moments and he tenderly wiped the trails of saline water away from her cheeks while she smiled as brightly as she could.

The young Anna watched the scene unfold with pursed lips and a pout, her hands joined behind her back as her eyes darted between the two.

"Is she my mom?" she asked as they separated fully.

Elizabeth's face flushed with embarrassment, but Booker simply laughed her question's awkwardness away. "No, sweetie. This is more…your big sister."

Anna's eyes grew bigger than plates. "For realsies?!"

Booker crossed Elizabeth's hesitant gaze and shrugged. "Kinda."

"Woaah," the child mused, her eyes twinkling with wonder. "I have a big sis'!"

Elizabeth glared in his direction but couldn't help but feel her heart melt when the little girl came to her and glanced up in joy. She slightly bent over and extended a hand. "Hello, Anna. It's nice to meet you."

Anna eyed the offered handshake with a curious glint, turned to Booker for approval, and eagerly brought her hand to Elizabeth's as soon as he nodded.

Ignoring the nagging feeling of weirdness at the idea she was shaking the hand of her own twelve-years-younger self– _quantum physics_ —Elizabeth smiled warmly at the excited girl.

"When did you get here?" Booker asked once they were done. "This is hardly a place of fashion right now."

"Just about now actually. I…I have a lot of explaining to do."

"Yeah, but not right now. You're hungry."

She was indeed famished now that he mentioned it, but that strangely astute observation begged a question. "How do you know that?"

"Anna does that little thing with her fingers too when she's starving," he amusedly explained as he mimicked a little twitchy jab with his left pinky. "There's a marketplace just around the corner. I'll go grab a few apples. It'll be just a minute."

Booker scurried out, leaving Elizabeth and Anna in the abandoned office. The older version leaned on the desk, trying to process what was happening while the youngest sat on the floor, her eyes not leaving her 'big sister'.

Elizabeth quickly noticed the insistent staring. "Do I look strange?"

"Nuh-uh. I never saw clothes like these. You're very pretty."

Elizabeth chuckled at the compliment. "Thank you. It's true they're not really timely. We're in 1902, right?" Anna nodded. She stayed silent for a second. "Do you know why this place is abandoned?"

"Daddy sold it. He said he needed just a bit of money to not have problems anymore. So now we don't have problems anymore!"

Elizabeth guessed 'problems' was the way Booker had phrased 'crippling debt and alcoholism' to his daughter. "He sold it? How is he going to work, then?"

"He doesn't come here anymore. He's a policeman! He's earning money so that we can travel someday!"

"Travel? Really?" Elizabeth said, a smile already growing on her face. "You want to go to Paris?"

Anna cocked her head to the side. "You too? He said that first. I wanted to go to Egypt, but the trip would take like forever, and I don't like boats. I always puke. Paris looks fun too. The pictures in the books are pretty."

How she hadn't bothered to take a breath throughout the entire sentence amazed Elizabeth. Not everything had to be the exact same, she guessed. Constants and variables.

"It _is_ very pretty. Though I hope you'll be able to see both and many more."

"Yeah! I want to see eeeeeeeverything," Anna asserted with a wide grin as she lifted her hands above her head.

"Do you want to go to Columbia, too?" She had asked it unconsciously, but her question was a good way to get a feel of how Columbia was perceived in this world. The Comstock of this reality would also have to be there.

"Columbia?" Anna demanded with clear confusion, her eyebrow arched and her arms crossed.

"Yes. The flying city."

"Oh, daddy talked about a flying city once. He said it was…in the… in the Specific now," she replied, clearly proud of herself for remembering such a piece of information.

"The…The Specific?"

"Yeah. Underwater."

"The Spec—Oh! The Pacific? You mean the Pacific Ocean?"

Another nod answered her. Elizabeth understood quickly that Columbia was no more. Just like Rapture eventually would in the world she'd last left, the flying beacon of American exceptionalism was now buried in shambles under countless meters-cube of seawater.

* * *

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> First of all, thank you for reading!
> 
> This is Part I of a little post-ending fic I had in mind as a headcanon of Elizabeth's story's ending. Had to get this out after a friend of mine completed the game and we started gushing about how awesome it was together.
> 
> He is writing his own story, and I can't recommend it enough. Check AzimuthZero's profile if you're interested. It should be posted not long after this one.
> 
> In mathematics, One Over Zero is technically undefined, but its numerical value is Infinite whenever you try to compute it *wink wink*.
> 
> Part II should not come long after this one (a week at most), so stay tuned!


	2. Part II

The sounds of a busy city were all she could hear. Her dad had been gone for what? Three minutes? And she missed him already. At least, this newcomer was as intriguing as her elegant dress of black and white was beautiful.

_Big sister?_

She kinda looked like her. She had pretty eyes. Was she really not her mom? She could have sworn she was her mom. But she was a bit young for her dad. Also, weird hair and shoes. Big sister it was.

“Are you the third?”

Elizabeth’s gaze snapped to her.

“I’m sorry?”

“Daddy always said there were three women in his life. Are you the third?”

Elizabeth didn’t answer. She fiddled with her fingers while watching the door without looking away a single second. No, not her fingers. One finger. That she didn’t have. No pinky? How odd. But Anna liked the small cover it had over it. So, she had to tell her exactly that. Why wouldn’t she?

“I like it,” she plainly stated. “The thingy over your finger. It looks sweet.”

Elizabeth’s eyes went down to the metal cap over her severed right pinky. She smiled weakly, a smile that even Anna could tell was oh so very sad.

“Thanks, Anna. It’s been there all my life.”

“Does it have anything to do with Columbia?”

Her question had flowed naturally. Of course that was the next step. Then why was Elizabeth looking at her like that?

“I shouldn’t be surprised, should I?” the older woman eventually whispered. “As a matter of fact, it does.”

“Knew it! Were you born there?”

“Not… Not really.”

“Did Daddy ever go there?”

“He did. Booker came to fetch me from that city, actually.”

_Booker?_

“You call him by his name? Not Daddy?”

“No. That would feel a bit strange.”

Anna narrowed her eyes. “How is that stranger than calling him by his name?”

Elizabeth rapidly blinked. “I only met him recently. I’m sure I’ll get to it eventually.”

“Oh right. You met in Columbia. What were you doing there?”

“It’s…”

The sound of creaking wood interrupted her answer.

“…a very long story,” Booker finished as he closed the door behind him, his hands full with a bag that looked like it held a dozen apples. “I didn’t know how much you’d like to eat,” he added with a shrug when he noticed the curious glance both girls threw at him. “Eh, we’ll keep the leftovers for later anyway.”

Elizabeth gladly took the offered fruits with a feeble “Thank you”. Booker then tossed one to Anna and kept one for himself. He half-sat on the chair’s upper bar, letting his right leg dangle below him while the other still touched the ground.

“Let her take her marks, Anna. She said she’d explain. Whenever she’s ready.”

Elizabeth took delicate bites from her own apple, visibly savoring its taste before gulping it down and turning to Booker.

“I still can’t believe you’re here.”

“Technically, you’re the one who’s _here_ ,” Booker said. “This has been my place for a while now.”

“True enough. I just have to get used to the idea I’m not… somewhere else.”

Booker’s gaze hardened. “Because you’re not supposed to?”

Anna’s eyes went from one to the other. He was confusing her. She was confusing her. Everything was confusing her. What were they talking about?

“Honey,” Booker called. “There are kids in the square in front of the market and it looked like they missed a player. How about you go for a spin with them?”

“What? I wanna stay with Elizabeth!”

“Later, honey. I promise. Elizabeth and I have important things to discuss first.”

Anna puffed her cheeks in pouting and crossed her arms. She would obey her father, but she was annoyed. She wanted to hear Elizabeth’s story too.

“You know what?” Booker said as he rolled his eyes and dove a hand in his pocket to retrieve some coin. “Go get that album.”

The tension on her cheeks immediately vaporized. She stood up, smiled broadly as she walked past him, and took the money.

“Hey. Ain’t you forgetting somethin’?”

Anna turned to him and he lifted a finger to his cheek. He had that cocky smile on him. She repressed a grin of her own—he looked so silly, but he knew it made her laugh—and stretched up to plant a kiss where he was pointing.

“Atta girl,” he said as he flashed a content smile.

Anna skipped out of the office, throwing one last cheerful wave on her way to her ‘sister’. “See you in a bit!”

Elizabeth let her shoulders relax and her lips slightly arch up. “She looks like a good daughter.”

“She is. Always has her nose in those damn books, sometimes I don’t know what to do with myself. I just watch her turn pages faster than I can breathe. I swear to the almighty…”

He shook his head in tender amusement but quickly regained a serious frown that accentuated his newly formed wrinkles like crusted clay in a desert’s summer. Elizabeth realized that he looked much older than he was supposed to be. And he had the scar on his hand. And his hair was starting to grey. 

“How old are you?” she blurted out without thinking.

He sighed. “I was born 27 years ago, but I’m 47.”

“How is that—”

“When I was sent back here, it was after everything I’d lived with you had happened. Comstock never existed in this reality. Columbia fell before it could even be completed. I directly came back as I was. Just like Comstock in yours, I’m way ahead of the curve in that regard.”

“So, you lost 20 years?” Elizabeth asked, her voice low and her eyes tight in worry.

To her surprise, he simply flashed a grin. “I did, but I was going to lose a whole lot more than that without you. You gave me a chance to see my daughter grow. It doesn’t matter that I spent twenty years alone. As far as I’m concerned, my life took back off as soon as I met you. But I’m not the subject here…” He took the chair closer to her, sat backwards and let his closed knuckle rest on his thigh. “What happened?”

Elizabeth let her head fall, struggling to find her words. She wanted them to come to her, to break out and let her confide in the only person she’d trust them with. But they stayed in her throat like a dam, slowly amassing until the water reached her eyes.

His hand came to wipe the tears away once more. Gently, tenderly. He then said two words. Two simple words.

“Go ahead.”

Everything spilled out in a powerful torrent.

* * *

The sight of the poor girl pouring her heart out slowly tore his own. “I’m sorry about it,” was all he managed when she was done.

“It was not your fault. Not really.”

“Except it was. Not _mine_ , but still mine.”

“We’re not starting to apologize for our alternate selves now, are we? There would be no end to that.”

“You’re right. And it’s giving me headaches already.”

“That seems to be one of the constants.”

She tried to laugh, but her chuckles sounded dry. Far was the Elizabeth that danced on that beach, grinned at that carousel, sang in that bar.

“Speaking of _end;_ when is your work going to?”

She crossed her arms. They were ever so shaking.

“I thought I was done with that last one. All the memories from the other Elizabeths came to me. I should be the last. I _am_ the last. I honestly have no idea what I’m doing here. I thought there was another Comstock, but even that…”

She gingerly stroked her own arm, throwing a dejected glance to the old and grooved planks of wood under her feet.

Booker took a few seconds to think about something the Elizabeth he had traveled with had told him. “There will always be another one,” he reminisced absent-mindedly. “Another man, another lighthouse, another city.” He skimmed through his memories, the light of her words coming back to him. “Wait…”

Elizabeth perked up. “What?”

“Did you open all the doors?”

She furrowed her brows in evident confusion. “What does that mean?”

“When we were at the lighthouse, Eliza—well, you told me you could see all the doors. That you could open them all.”

That probably didn’t help at all.

“I can.”

“But did you open them all?”

“I…” She sank in thought. She had obviously already spent some time on the question. “There is no point in opening some of them.”

“What do you mean?”

“Most of the doors are slight variations of others I know. I only needed to go where Comstock was.”

Booker carefully examined her. She wasn’t Anna, but he had spent a lot more time with his daughter than with Elizabeth by now and the similarities between the two were starting to feel uncanny. Especially how her eyes dodged his own to the right; she knew more than she was letting on.

“Did it scare you?” he asked.

Her breath hung in the air before she shook her head with a small smile and talked, “Not really. I was worried I’d lose my sight, so to speak. Like if I looked at the sun, I thought it’d blind me. I’m still not sure if it would.”

“I see. But that means you couldn’t open _everything_ , right?”

“I guess not.”

“Okay, here’s what I’m thinking. Try to open them all. Try it once.”

She lifted a delicate eyebrow. “That sounds like something Comstock would say.”

Booker sighed with rasp exasperation. “Come on, trust me on this. You’re going to learn something.”

“I won’t become blind?”

“No. The Elizabeth I met did it. She got back fine.”

Elizabeth didn’t move, her gaze still wary.

“I can leave if you want. I know it makes you look all white and freaky, but I thought we were past that, crossing the lighthouses together and all,” Booker finally said.

“Okay,” Elizabeth relented with a half-smile. “I’ll try.”

She closed her eyes and moved her hands before her, no doubt opening a tear that he couldn’t see. What was lasting a few seconds for him could very well be much, much more for her. After some moments of complete silence, she reeled back, breathless, as if a sudden burst of immense force had pushed against her. Her eyes snapped wide open, beads of sweat already forming over her forehead.

He dashed at her side, taking her arms in his to support her.

“They’re… They’re everywhere,” she muttered.

She had seen them. “Yes, they are.”

“Yet, they’re nowhere.” She shifted her glance back at him. “Why are there so many?”

“Here’s what she told me: ‘If a single occurrence exists, an infinity will follow.’ She said she could see all, which was the reason she couldn’t fight. As long as there’s one, there’ll be two, then four, then a hundred, then a million…”

Elizabeth's mouth gaped open, her lower jaw trembling from the newfound truth. She settled back on the desk.

“And there will always be one,” Booker said. “Because infinity is what it is, there will always be one. Just like there’ll always be one were we both sit here but your hair is blonde, one where that speck of dust is a bit on the left, one where we’re in Paris at this very moment, one where I never existed, never went to Columbia, to Wounded Knee, never met Annabelle… It doesn’t even have to be at the baptism. As long as there’s one…”

“…over zero.” Elizabeth brought her hand over her mouth in visible shock. “What then? Do I just give up?”

“You don’t give up a fight you can’t win, honey.” He winced. He had called her that in reflex, but she did not seem to pay it much attention, too busy sorting through the messy tornado that was surely swirling in her mind. “I’m honestly happy enough that you did not lose. You closed those you could. The others are a bit trickier.”

“What now?” she asked after a while, her piercing blue eyes shining against the dull background.

“Now, you get to decide. You’re a free bird for once.”

She didn’t look as convinced as he thought she’d be. Her eyes still drifted down, morose and tired.

“Am I really?”

Booker gently put his palm over her shoulder. “There’s no one else who deserves it more. It’s damn time you get to shuffle back that bad hand.”

“But can I? When I know that I’m the last?”

Booker straightened his back against the chair. “You’re _one_ of the last. My Elizabeth left me 8 years ago, saying she’d meet me again someday. She kept her word. Sort of.”

She met his gaze. Fearful and unsure, but still hopeful. There she was. The girl fresh out of the tower.

“You can go wherever and whenever you want. And as far as I’m concerned, you have a home with Anna and me. If you’ll have us.”

She chuckled, her voice much clearer this time. “But will she have me?”

Before he could answer, the door opened again. Anna stepped inside, carrying a heavy book as quickly as her little legs allowed.

“Hello again!” She hurried to the desk and let the volume fall on the wooden surface. “There ya go.”

Booker scanned the cover. That wasn’t the photo album she wanted. What was that, French? _La Joie De Vivre?_ They couldn’t write vowels and consonants together instead of dedicating a word for each?

“You bought something else?” he asked his daughter.

She shyly scratched the back of her left leg with her right foot and glanced up at Elizabeth.

“You looked sad, and you said you liked Paris. I found this book, and the lady said it was set in Paris?”

Elizabeth gingerly picked it up, a bright grin slowly appearing on her glossy lips. “It does seem like it is. Thank you, Anna.”

Anna mirrored her smile with evident pride.

Booker observed the scene with amused fondness. “So, what do you say, Elizabeth?”

She turned the book around in her hands and breathed a longing sigh.

“It’s good to be home.”

_When you close your earthly story,_

_Will you join them in their bliss?_

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> And Part II is here.
> 
> Like I told you, this is my headcanon and how I myself, as a scientist, see the infinity of the branching universes created in the game. Infinity is weird, it does not behave, it does what it wants, and that's what we both love and hate about it hehe.
> 
> Reviews and comments are welcome, should you want to share anything with me or discuss things!
> 
> I also added a little drawing I felt like doing. It's far from my best work, but I included it nonetheless.
> 
> Peace,  
> CalAm.


End file.
